


December 8th

by enkelimagnus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec is the best boyfriend, Birthday, M/M, Muslim Magnus, Time Passes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: Magnus’ musings on his birthday, that he’s not spending alone this year.





	December 8th

The card was ornate. Black paper and golden swirls of ink to form the words “Happy Birthday”. A kick of magic to make it come alive, something Magnus was used to seeing from Catarina. He kept it in between his fingers, painted nails gently tapping onto the carton paper. It was beautiful.

Magnus knew what the day was today. He knew it. He didn’t want to think about it. But Catarina, she never forgot. Ever. He didn’t either. He just… was different right now. Alec was at the Institute and he… he was working.

There was no point.

Alexander didn’t know. It had just never come up. Or maybe it had. Magnus had probably managed to get away from the questions. There was no real reason why he was avoiding the question of his birthday. 

But here he was, looking through books of spells in the comfort of his study, a warm cup of his favorite tea in hand, alone, and not planning anything except maybe ordering some thai food from his favorite place. Or maybe he could cook tonight. Something from… Indonesia. A long time ago he would have called it food from home. But no, not anymore. 

The clock ticked out slowly the seconds, but the rest of his loft was silent. Chairman had dozed off somewhere, probably on the couch, or under the study table. Somewhere Magnus couldn’t see him. This… this was home, not the memories of less than a decade spent in that house, where his mother and his stepfather had lived. It was so long ago, now. 

366 years since he had left Indonesia. What a mess of a life he had had. He still had it. It was less of a mess now. Now he had… a solid position as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. A solid home. He had Catarina, and Dot had just come out of the hospital after all this time between life and death. Madzie was growing and healthy and smiling. 

There were those Shadowhunters that he could now consider his friends. There was Luke, and Raphael, and Maia, the latest addition to his little family. 

And Alexander. Someone who loved him, someone who cared, someone who wanted to be with him, and promised forever in his ear. For once, he wouldn’t fall asleep alone on his birthday. For once, there would be someone. A Shadowhunter, in his bed, in his arms; living with him and loving him. 

Maybe he should tell him. Birthdays are important to mortals. Not much to people like him. You celebrate centuries and… the rest is much of a blur. And it’s not much. It’s not like he’s celebrating his 5th century. He’s just… 375. It shouldn’t be a big deal. 

He stood up from his desk, sighing softly, and walked out of the room, and into the living room. It was quiet today. No client, nothing. Just him and Chairman, him and his life. Magnus walked out onto the balcony. 

New York was always cold in winter. Magnus liked it. He liked the cold lick of the wind on his face, and the smoke coming out of every house, he liked the way people looked like they were steaming. He liked New York, more than he thought he would when he had first arrived here. It had changed so much. But he still deeply, fiercely loved it. 

His phone rang in the loft, but he didn’t go and pick up. He just looked around the building, looked at the horizon, looked at the Manhattan skyscrapers, and tightened his thick woolen cardigan on his frame. It was a gift from Alexander. Extremely thick and comfortable, definitely not Magnus’ usual style. It was like a mix of something Alec would wear, and some of Magnus’ blankets. 

“Alhumdulillah.” He muttered under his breath. It felt like the right thing to say.

He hadn’t prayed in a while. Most of the times, it felt strange to him, like it didn’t align with who he was now. Religion was such a fleeting thing in his life, he had never managed to retain much of it with the time. He did few things, and a part of him knew it was not enough, but another part of him knew it was. 

He had more faith than religion. He had more of a general idea and a general… feeling than anything else, really. He knew he was Muslim because of the way his mother’s faith had always made sense to him, but he didn’t know much more. 

On that day, he felt like seeking the comfort of faith more than other days. Something to ground him a little in the moment, and maybe then he’d feel like telling Alec. He walked back into the loft and closed the door. 

It was facing East that Alexander found him not long after. The Shadowhunter had told him a couple times that religion wasn’t something he understood easily. It wasn’t something Nephilim learned. It was something Alexander had been brought up to believe was exclusively mundane. It had been one long discussion for Magnus to explain his faith, especially when he knew so little about his own journey himself. 

Only once Magnus had stood up and rolled the rug and put everything back into place did Alexander speak out. 

“I was having some people clean up the archives as a sanction earlier… They found something.” 

It didn’t sound good to Magnus, yet Alexander’s tone was soft, and gentle, and there wasn’t the cold sharp edge of anger that his voice took when he was annoyed, or angry. It was just… soft. Like he was trying to keep him comforted. 

Magnus looked up at the man he’d fallen in love with. There was nothing but love on his face. Nothing but love in his eyes. Even a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. In his outstretched hand, an old looking piece of parchment. 

The warlock took it quietly, and gazed down upon it. An old piece of paperwork, from when the Clave had dealt with him back when he was a child. The few months he had spent with the Silent Brothers in Spain, both to make sure he wasn’t getting out of line and understood that he had to fear Nephilim, and to punish him for murdering his parents. His birth date, on the form. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that today was your birthday?” 

It wasn’t accusatory. It was just a little sad. Alexander shouldn’t be feeling like this because of him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m taking you out tonight. You don’t get to say anything. I’ve cleared my schedule for the rest of the afternoon, and for tomorrow. I’ve called all your family. We’re having a party tomorrow. Tonight is just us.” 

Why did he feel so loved suddenly? Magnus could have just burst into tears at the firmness of the tone. Alexander wasn’t angry. Alexander was just determined to make this birthday the best of Magnus’ entire life. And he was right. 

“I love you.” He thought, but didn’t dare say it yet. That was yet another thing he had to work on. Saying that he loved Alexander by himself. 

“Happy birthday, Magnus Bane.”


End file.
